Let the Flames Begin
by TheVioletGleek
Summary: Somewhere weakness is our strength, and I'll die searching for it. I can't let myself regret such selfishness. My pain and all the trouble caused no matter how long I believe there's hope  Paramore In the end, the only thing that saves them is each other
1. I Caught Myself

**Hello, FanFiction world! If you're one of my regular readers, don't be angry with me! I'm working on Rising Demons as we speak. Or type. Whichever. But after falling in love (With Glee) I started reading a lot of Glee FanFics. I noticed there were a lot of Faberry fics, and I was never really a big fan of that pairing. But after reading a few of them, I really started to like it. So now, I've come up with my own idea. And, because I am a lover of music as well as a writer, I will be paying tribute to Paramore in my fic. All the chapters are named after songs of theirs. All right, let the flames begin! **

Let the Flames Begin

Started on Thursday, December 30, 2010 at 2:25 pm Mountain Time.

Finished: N/A

Summary: "_Somewhere weakness is our strength, and I'll die searching for it. I can't let myself regret such selfishness. My pain, and all the trouble caused, no matter how long I believe there's hope."_

Chapter One - I Caught Myself

Quinn Fabray stalked down the hall, her eyes cutting through the crowd of freshmen. Their eyes widened in fear and they parted like the Red Sea. Halfway through her junior year, and she could still part a hallway. _I'm getting my touch back._ She thought, the smirk on her face sending shivers through the small freshmen. To them, she was nearly the most terrifying Cheerio in the school, second only to Santana Lopez.

She couldn't deny that Santana was more feared than her. The Latina even had the football team wincing in fear when she ran towards them with her eyes blazing. So when Dave Karofsky went by on the Monday morning after break with a slushie in his hand, Quinn couldn't install any fear in him. Rather, a small tremor of fear went through her heart. All of Glee Club knew that he'd threatened to kill Kurt. This boy was dangerous.

"Looking for a new victim, Karofsky?"

He stopped for a second, his eyes still fixed down the hallway. The amused smile on his face sent shivers down Quinn's spine. "Already found her." He replied.

Quinn followed his gaze down the hallway to where Rachel was putting books in her locker. "Berry? Do you always go for the weaklings?"

Dave's eyes narrowed and for the first time he looked at Quinn. She glared back, although her heart was pounding. "Would you rather I try the head Cheerio?"

Quinn took a step forward. "You lay a hand or slushie on me and I'll kick you so hard you'll have a sex change." She let out a sarcastic laugh-she'd learned it from Coach Sylvester. "How would you like going around in a dress, Karofsky?"

His eyes flashed and his grip tightened on the slushie. For a moment Quinn was afraid he was going to hit her, but then he relaxed. "You've got a sense of humor." He noted, amused. "_And _you're trying to be a good person by sticking up for Berry."

"I wasn't sticking-" She cut off when he raised his hand. But he only patted her on the head before rolling his eyes and taking off towards Rachel.

"Are you okay? What did he say to you?" Quinn gasped and turned around.

"Jesus, Sam, you scared the shit out of me!"

Sam smiled. "Can you really use 'Jesus' and 'shit' in the same sentence?"

"Don't judge me!" She snapped, her eyes blazing.

Sam blinked in surprise. "Sorry?" He offered.

Quinn sighed and shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. Karofsky freaked me out. And I think he's going after Rachel."

Sympathy flashed through her. For once, she didn't try to push it away. Quinn could still see traces of sadness in Rachel's eyes, and how her eyes followed Finn in the hallways. Even in Glee club, she seemed slightly subdued. _How is it that I got off better than her?_ Quinn wondered. She'd done so much more than just make out with Puck- she'd had a _baby_ with him. It wasn't fair.

"Going after her?" Sam's eyes widened. "You don't mean like he went after Kurt?"

"No!" If that had been the case, Quinn would've castrated him. "But he had a slushie and-" She was cut off as an alarmed cry rang through the hallways, followed by loud laughter. Sure enough, when Quinn turned around she could see Rachel, covered in slushie and looking upset.

But what alarmed Quinn was that Rachel looked more than just upset, she looked utterly defeated. While Rachel had always gone through the world with her head held high and her eyes sparkling with defiance, now she just slowly made her way to the bathroom, her shoulders sagging and her eyes dull.

"She looks awful." Sam whispered.

"Of course she looks awful, she just got a slushie facial!" It was clear that Quinn wasn't the only one to notice these changes in Rachel. But she had a strange desire to deny that something was wrong.

Sam looked at her strangely and Quinn felt guilty. That was the second time in about one minute that she'd snapped at him. "I'm going to see if she wants some help." She said on a sudden impulse, and left Sam to find Rachel.

In the bathroom, Rachel was vainly struggling to wipe off the slushie from her hideous fluffy jacket. Quinn stood quietly at the door for a moment, bracing herself before finally stepping forward and letting the door fall shut behind her. But she found herself at a loss as to what to say to comfort the broken looking brunette. So she said he first thing that came to her mind: "Don't you have a shirt on underneath that thing?"

Rachel didn't jump, or look up. "Of course."

"Then why don't you just take the jacket off? That's the only place the slushie stained." Quinn pointed out.

Rachel's hand froze for a moment before she looked up. Quinn's skin crawled when she looked into those dull eyes. "I'd rather not." She said simply. "I don't have another one."

"Another what? Jacket? Berry, in the winter the school is about a hundred degrees. I think you're safe from frostbite." Quinn said sarcastically. Rachel didn't respond to the joke and Quinn softened a little. "Just take it off, and I'll let you borrow one of mine."

Rachel hesitated for a moment more before unbuttoning the jacket and sliding it off. Quinn had to catch herself before she gasped out loud. "Rachel…" She trailed off, not knowing what to say.

On her upper arm was a huge red gash, and it looked relatively new. It was just beginning to bruise on the outside. "What happened?" Quinn took a step forward.

Rachel took a step back. Her eyes were clouded and she put her hand over her arm. "Nothing. I was practicing choreography for glee and fell into my dresser. Now I would appreciate it if you would respect my privacy and not make a big deal about this!"

Quinn put up her hands in surrender. "All right, all right." Relief mixed with worry. There was definitely something wrong, something more than just falling into a dresser. Rachel was just too defensive. But at the same time, Quinn was relieved that there was some of that old Rachel Berry spark in her response.

"You look good in that shirt." Quinn said, trying to change the subject. She wasn't lying though. It was just a black shirt -no polka dots or other little kid emblems- that hugged to her body. Quinn had never noticed before what good shape Rachel was in. She was thin, but not unhealthily so. Usually she was covered up with those hideous and baggy clothes she generally wore.

"It's a little tighter than I'm used to." Rachel replied doubtfully.

Quinn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "That's the point."

Rachel remained silent as Quinn slid off her jacket and handed it to her. "Thanks." She said softly. "Are you sure you won't need it?"

Quinn shook her head. "Coach Sylvester doesn't let us wear jackets over our uniforms unless it's below zero outside, anyways." She assured her. "It's in the twenties today."

Rachel nodded and grabbed her soiled jacket. "Well, see you in glee." Before Quinn could respond, she brushed out the bathroom and left her alone.

For a moment, she just stared at the door. Then she grabbed her bag and sighed, then went to class.

* * *

"All right, guys! I think I've finally got the set list for Regionals picked out." Mr. Schuster held up a piece of paper, and most of the club leaned forward unconsciously, anxious to know what it would be.

Quinn could hear Mercedes in the back whispering, "Please no Journey, please no Journey, please no Journey…" And could see Finn crossing his fingers. Surely Mr. Schue wouldn't be _that_ inept that they'd go for the same angle as last year?

"I think that the Warblers had an advantage in Sectionals by doing songs that were newer and popular. I don't doubt that they'll do it again at Regionals. So, for our first song we're doing A Thousand Miles, by Vanessa Carlton." There was a small trill of excitement through the club. "And there will be a solo-"

"I'll do it!" Tina and Mercedes stood at the same time.

For a moment there was silence. There was a shock in the room that was a combination of Rachel's failure to say anything, and Tina's excitement. Tina responded first. "I love that song," She muttered, embarrassed.

Rachel was silent for a few moments more. Even Mr. Schue was watching her. After a minute or two, she muttered, "Give it to Tina."

No one said anything, even Mercedes. Finally, Mr. Schue cleared his throat. "Well, all right then. Tina, do you mind meeting me before school to work on the song?"

Tina, at a loss for words, shook her head.

Mr. Schue looked at the list again. "The second song will be I Just Haven't Met You Yet by Michael Buble. I thought Puck could sing the solo in that song." Puck looked up in surprise, and for the first time Quinn thought he looked a little scared.

"O-okay Mr. Schue." He muttered.

"Wow, we're really going outside of the box." Finn said, "It's pretty cool."

Mr. Schuster nodded. "You bet. Vocal Adrenaline is nothing without Jesse or Ms. Corcoran." Quinn noticed Rachel flinch slightly. "And even if they are, they'll be expecting us to pull another 80's show. We've got to pull out all the stops. Which is why our third song is more modern rock. We'll do Misery Business, by Paramore." The third song was met with cheers from the club, who were all happy with the set list.

"Will?" Quinn saw Mrs. Howell in the doorway.

"Hi, Emma." For a moment the teacher and guidance counselor just looked at each other, and Quinn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Last year Mr. Schuster was married when Mrs. Howell wanted him, and now Mrs. Howell was married when Mr. Schue wanted her. It was tragic, in a dramatic soap opera way. "Can I do something for you?"

"Oh, well Principal Figgins just wanted me to tell the kids about a new support group the school's setting up." Mrs. Howell hesitated at the door before coming into the room. "Hi, everybody."

The class gave their dutiful 'hello's before either falling silent or spacing out.

"Well, I know that a lot of the students have been coming to me lately with problems with their parents. So I talked to Figgins, and we agreed that we would start having a support group where students can come and talk about problems at home." She paused, waiting for a response. A few kids in New Directions had started muttering. Quinn knew that she was interested. Even though her mom had come back all supportive, they still had a lot of problems. Even Finn was listening. Quinn wondered if he had problems with his mom, or if it was his step dad's stroke, or even Kurt leaving to Dalton.

"So…it's at lunch in the auditorium. Anyone is welcome." Emma paused for a second more, then nodded to Mr. Schue and left. _For a high school guidance councilor, she sure has a lot of problems. _Quinn thought.

"What a stupid idea." Quinn heard Rachel mutter under her breath.

Quinn was surprised. "Why do you think it's a bad idea?"

Rachel shrugged. "I just don't see how talking about the problem would make it any better. Everyone would be either exaggerating it, or not telling the whole truth about it. And in the end, the only thing that's different is that a bunch of people pity you. And the problems don't go away."

Quinn blinked. _I never thought of Berry as a pessimist. _"It might give good advice as to how to deal with all sorts of problems." She protested.

"Not all of them." Rachel said.

Quinn let out a sigh of exasperation. "I was pretty glad I could talk to someone about what's going on with my mom, but thanks for putting a downer on it. And anyway, aren't you in happy land, with your two dads?"

To Quinn's alarm, Rachel sprang up, her chair knocking backwards. "You don't know anything, Fabray!" Tears were shining in her eyes, and for the first time all day they shone with emotion. The entire club was silent now, staring at Rachel and Quinn.

Quinn just stared at her in shock. Before anyone could say anything Rachel took her bag and stormed out of the room.

"That was weird, even for Rachel." Sam said softly. The room was buzzing once more. Quinn couldn't say anything, and only nodded. "Hey," Sam took her hand. "It's all right." But Quinn had a sinking feeling.

Everything was not all right with Rachel Berry.


	2. Love's Not a Competition

**Wow, five reviews already! I can't remember how long it took me to get five reviews on my last story ;) But soccerstar's review was my favorite! So gracias, mis amigos. **

**On a not so side note, Brittany and Santana will be in this story as well. Brittana is one of my favorite pairings, and they'll become major later on. **

Chapter Two - Love's Not a Competition (But I'm winning)

Brittany sat on her bed, staring at the pacing Santana in confusion. "Why are you moving around so much? You're like a hyper puppy, except you're not furry and you're not peeing on my floor."

Santana, who normally found Brittany's tirades amusing, just kept pacing, a frown set on her face. "I'm worried about Quinn and Rachel."

"You're worried about Quinn and Rachel? I thought you hated them both." Brittany asked. Everything was turned upside down today.

"Well, we kinda used to be friends with Quinn. Before she stole my spot as head cheerleader." A flare of anger lit up Santana's eyes for a moment before it dimmed. It was surprisingly comforting to Brittany to see Santana reverting back to herself. "And Berry-" She cut off, deep in thought.

"She's a crazy strawberry." Brittany suggested.

Santana just stared at Brittany for a moment before nodding. "Whatever you say."

Brittany got off the bed and put herself in Santana's path. "Why are you worrying? We don't know if anything's wrong, and if it was, what could we do?"

Frustration crossed Santana's face. "I don't know." She murmured, letting the blonde cheerleader embrace her. She rested her head on Brittany's shoulder. "There's just something about their behavior that's…familiar."

"It's like we were before we became friends." Brittany put in.

Santana's head snapped up. "You're right." She said softly. Joy lit up Brittany's face. She wasn't often right. "I used to make fun of you when you were new here." Santana felt a pang of regret. How could she have been so cruel? "Did I ever apologize for that?"

Brittany shook her head. "Apologizing isn't really something you do."

A smile flickered on Santana's lips. "You're right, it's not. But I'm really sorry." She said seriously.

Brittany blinked in surprise. "Thanks." She said, grinning.

Santana pulled Brittany towards the bed and plopped down on it. "So if Quinn and Rachel are acting like us." She said slowly, trying to unravel it in her mind. "Going from mean to defensive of each other- even in the least, then does that mean they'll…end up like us?"

For a moment Brittany didn't say anything. "I don't really know how we ended up." She said honestly.

None of them spoke, and the silence stretched out until Santana finally broke it. "I thought we talked about this." She said softly. "We're just friends."

"That's a lie," Brittany protested fiercely.

"No, it's not." Santana sat up. "We _can't _be together, Brittany. This isn't some sappy TV show where the two best friends get together. Neither of us feel those feelings."

Brittany didn't move, just stayed on the bed. "I have those feelings." She whispered.

"No, you don't."

"Yes!" Brittany sat up and glared at Santana. "And you have them for me. You said so yourself on New Years when you kissed me at midnight. You told me that you loved me."

Santana shook her head. "No, Brittany, I was drunk. I don't even remember that."

"Another lie." Said Brittany angrily. "You always remember what happens while you're drunk. Like the one time that freshmen tried to make me go pet a mushroom or something, you were crazy drunk. He thought he was Scott-free, but you remembered perfectly the next day, and beat the crap out of him."

Santana thought back to that night. Little twerp, it was a shock he could snort anything after how badly she'd broken his nose. "Brittany," She said softly, her throat constricting. "You have Artie."

"I broke up with him." She said bluntly.

Santana looked up in shock. "But, you cared about him so much. You even told me you loved him."

Brittany looked into Santana's eyes. "I love you more."

Santana broke the gaze. She was on the verge of tears, and she bit the inside of her cheek. Santana Lopez _never_ cried. "You're wrong Brittany," She said finally. "You're wrong." She closed her eyes.

They didn't open, even when Santana heard the bed squeak as Brittany got up, or the door open, then close. Now that she was finally alone, the tears spilled from her eyes. _It's for her own good._ She thought.

* * *

The next day at school, Brittany wasn't there.

Santana was on the warpath, cutting through crowds with her glare. She had to find Brittany. What if something had happened to her? How had she gotten home last night? Santana _always _drove her. Did her parents pick her up? Or did she try to walk? What if some weirdo saw her, or someone like Karofsky? Or even something simple. She could nearly hear Brittany now: _"Look, Santana! A flower!"_

"It's on the other side of the road, Brittany." Santana whispered aloud. "Let it keep growing, and it'll look better in the spring."

"Did you say something?"

Santana turned around and saw Artie closing his locker. Now that she knew what Brittany had done to him, she could see that his hands just hung limp in his lap, not ready at his wheels like they usually were. He had bags under his eyes, like he hadn't gotten much sleep last night. Santana couldn't suppress a pang of pity for the wheelchair boy, but right now his feelings weren't at the top of her list. "Did you see or hear from Brittany last night?"

Artie shook his head. "Why would I?" He asked bitterly.

Santana thrust forward until she was towering over him. "You can sing your sad little breakup song in Glee. Right now we have to focus on Brittany. She left my house last night upset, and now she's not in school today."

That snapped Artie out of his haze. "What? You let her just, leave? And while she was upset? She can barely function while she's having a good day! How could you-?"

Santana leaned forward until she was inches from his face. "Don't you _dare_ blame me." She practically snarled. "If anything happens to her I will _never_ forgive myself."

Artie's eyes were wide with fear. Instead of speaking, he just nodded and sighed in relief when Santana backed off. "What does she usually do when she's upset?"

"Feeds ducks at the park." Santana said softly. "She loves it when they eat out of her hand."

"Do you think she could've gone there?" Artie questioned.

Santana hesitated before shaking her head. "She _always_ tells me when she's there. She has to send me pictures of the ducks." She couldn't help but think about one big fight they'd gotten into, and Brittany had still sent her pictures of ducks, names for each and every one.

Before Artie could reply, his eyes focused on a point beyond Santana, and she turned around. Walking down the hallway was Brittany, clutching her bag. "Thank God!" Santana took off down the hallway and practically threw herself at Brittany. "Where were you?" She demanded. "I thought something happened to you."

To her surprise, Brittany just stiffened and moved away. "Sorry, I wasn't aware that I meant anything to you." She spat.

Santana looked at Brittany, her mouth open. For perhaps the first time since she'd met Brittany, her eyes were sharp and focused. Santana took a step back. "I…"

But Brittany didn't wait for a reply, she just turned and made her way towards first period.

Artie wheeled up beside Santana. "Yesterday, she didn't even know where her first period class was. She wandered around for a while looking for a sign, but got distracted when a cricket hopped by. She thought it was stealing her jewelry." He said, confused.

"Something's wrong." Santana said. She could feel it in her bones.

"What do you think we should do?" Artie asked.

Santana thought for a second. "For right now, nothing." She decided. "She could just still be mad at me. Hopefully it'll blow over by Glee." Artie nodded and together they walked down the hallway, where Brittany had blown away.

* * *

"Quinn?"

Santana turned her attention from the door, waiting for Brittany to arrive, to where Rachel was standing in front of Quinn. The blonde cheerleader looked hesitant. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to apologize for snapping at you yesterday. I understand that you're going through something." Although the apology sounded sincere, it also sounded empty. Like there was none of that annoying Rachel Berry heart behind it.

Santana waited for Quinn to make some smart remark back, but she just nodded. "It's all right." Then she narrowed her eyes. "Is there something going on with you?"

By now the conversations in the room had dimmed down, everyone trying to listen to the two girls subtly. They were as subtle as Mr. Schue's glances towards the red-headed guidance counceler that looked suspiciously like one of those monkeys that only came out during the night and had eyes the size of Jupiter. But instead of answering, Rachel turned to Santana. "Where's Brittany?"

"Yeah, usually you two are attached to the hip." Tina pointed out.

Before Santana could come up with a reason Brittany wasn't here, the blonde came into the room, pointedly ignoring Santana and storming to a seat on the opposite side of the room. She looked completely unlike herself. Her eyes still had that icy, angry clarity, and she'd changed out of her Cheerios uniform into some skinny jeans, a pale white top and some silver heels. Her hair was down and flowed to the middle of her back. Santana shot a worried glance at Artie, and he glanced back.

Rachel had taken advantage of the distraction to slide into an empty seat unnoticed. When Mr. Schuster came in, no one had gotten around to saying anything. "All right guys, we rocked sectionals, but we have to destroy regionals! So let's get started. Puck, have you looked over your song?"

Puck, who hadn't been paying attention at all, jerked to attention. "Oh, umm, yeah Mr. Schue."

"Then you wouldn't mind coming down here and singing for us?"

Now the clubs' focus was on Puck. _They're as focused as goldfish._ Santana thought with a roll of her eyes. But she took the distraction to try to get Brittany's attention. Despite the blonde's best efforts, the only seat left was in the same row as Santana's, the top, and without Puck in his seat there was no one between them. As quietly as she could, Santana slipped seat by seat until she was next to her friend. "I'm sorry about last night." She whispered.

"You made your feelings known." Brittany said simply, her voice neutral, but her eyes blazed and her teeth were set on edge.

Santana tried to capture a flare of anger, but Brittany's icy glare froze it. "Look, Brittany-" She cut off when Brittany let out a cry, grabbing her head like something had hit her. "Brittany!" Santana gasped.

The piano cut off and Mr. Schuster ran up the bleacher. "Brittany, are you all right?"

She nodded, still clutching her head. "I'm fine." She panted. "It's just a headache."

Mr. Schue shot Santana a look, and she just looked desperately back, wishing she knew what was going on. "Brittany," Santana said softly, putting her hand on her shoulder.

She flinched back. "Don't touch me!" She said the words softly so that only Santana and Mr. Schuster could hear them, but they were filled with venom.

"Brittany," Mr. Schue said in surprise.

"It's nothing," She insisted once more. "I just…just need a drink." Brittany grabbed her bag and brushed by the teacher, leaving the choir room.

The room was still for a moment more before Santana sprang out of her chair and following Brittany out in the hallway. Brittany was leaning against a locker, fishing through her bag. "Where is it?" She whispered, her hands trembling too much to efficiently search for anything. The bag slipped out of her hands and the contents spilled out. "_Damn_ it!" Brittany slid down the lockers to the floors, where she sat with her face in her hands, crying softly.

Santana was at a loss. She had no clue what was going on. Only a few things had actually fallen out of the bag, but she could see that one of them was a small orange container. Slowly, she bent down to pick it up.

_Migraine medication. Take one every day with a meal. May cause drowsiness and/or confusion. If not taken daily, may lead to severe migraines and/or mental imbalance. Do not change medical habits without first consulting a doctor.  
_

"Oh my God," Santana whispered. "You're sick."

Brittany took her hands from her face. "I didn't want to take them this morning." She choked out. "I thought maybe if I wasn't being all stupid, you would actually _hear_ me…"

Santana shuffled across the floor, still clutching the bottle. "Don't." She said softly, a lump rising in her throat. "Don't you ever let yourself get sick because of me." Clumsily, Santana grabbed a water bottle that had fallen out of Brittany's bag and a granola bar before taking out one of the pills and handing it to Brittany. "Here, take this."

Brittany shook her head. "I don't want it." She said bitterly. "That's the reason I'm like this, all messed up. It's the reason everyone thinks I'm so stupid. It's why you don't, or don't love me. I hate it."

Santana couldn't hold back anymore. She reached for Brittany, pulling her close. "You're wrong." She couldn't help but remember that she had spoken those words last night. "I love you, Brittany. I've just been so afraid."

"Afraid?" Brittany murmured.

"Yes." Tears finally broke through and Santana was flat out sobbing. "I'm afraid what they'll do once they know. What they'll do to you. I just want you to have a happy life."

Brittany took a deep, rasping breath. "I only want to be happy with you."

Santana nodded, barely able to speak through her tears. "I love you, Brittany. I love you just the way you are, with the gay sharks and crickets that read you to sleep at night."

Brittany pulled Santana close. "I love you too." She whispered, closing her eyes and savoring the moment. No matter how drugged she was tomorrow, the clarity of this moment would stay with her forever.

The two girls stayed like that for the rest of Glee club, sitting in the hallway crying out all their sorrows and telling the other just how much she loved her.

**My best writing is when it's the middle of the night and I'm exhausted. Weird...**

**Next chapter will be another Quinn chapter, but after that will be a Rachel chapter that explains some of what's going on right now with her. **

**Reviews make Brittany happy!  
**


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